


You  Keep Fighting

by emphasisonem



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Political AU, Politician Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emphasisonem/pseuds/emphasisonem
Summary: Steve exhales a laugh, but there’s no joy in it. “Didn’t think we’d still be fightin’ this hard over this kind of stuff, ya know? The whole basic human rights thing.”“I know,” Bucky croons as he settles down beside Steve and reaches out out to cup the blond’s face. “I know, baby. But if anybody can handle this fight, it’s you. You’re gonna be great.”“God, I love you,” Steve breathes, leaning forward to capture Bucky’s lips with his own.    In which Steve's election to the United States Senate is bittersweet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, first, apologies for pulling something of a disappearing act. Like many of you, I was floored (and not in a good way) by the results of the U.S. general election. Coupled with some other stressors, I was not in a good headspace, and writing was next to impossible. I'm still sad, still angry, but it's more focused now, less consuming. And like hell am I going to let the fact that a bunch of close-minded bigots are somehow going to be in charge come January stop me from doing something that makes me happy. I'm in a better frame of mind now and I'm working on several updates and new projects, which you'll hopefully see soon.
> 
> Quite a few people have asked for something hopeful in the wake of all of this. One particular tumblr user wanted a fic where Steve and Bucky acknowledge the hate around them, but choose love instead. I did my best. It's based very much in the present situation. Fair warning, I'm a staunchly liberal Democrat, so if you're a fan of Trump and his ilk, this one might not be for you. If you're not, I hope that this provides some comfort, some hope. 
> 
> Remember to love each other and never, _ever_ let them silence your voices. Keep telling your stories, friends.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Natasha Romanov stands at the podium, her dark red hair swept up into a sleek chignon, her green eyes sparkling with happiness. “It is my genuine pleasure to be standing before you tonight. As most of you know, I’m Steve Rogers’s campaign manager.”

Steve, off to Natasha’s right, grins at the thunderous applause that breaks out in the hotel ballroom where his supporters have gathered on election night. There’s a palpable air of excitement, tinged with only a smidge of nerves as the crowd watches the returns come in on several large flat screen televisions.

“I’ve known Steve since we were in college,” Natasha continues, eyes flicking toward Steve as she grins. “Almost twenty years now. I watched as he served on our student government, leading by example. I encouraged him as he worked his way through law school, concentrating on Constitutional Law and human rights advocacy. I’ve helped him campaign successfully for positions in both the state and federal government, and I cannot begin to express how proud I am of my friend in this latest endeavor. I have no doubt that Steve will continue to do New York proud down in Washington, D.C.”

Steve can’t help chuckling at the wolf whistles and shouts that fill the ballroom, his gaze sliding to the dark-haired man at his side. Bucky Barnes smiles, reaching out to take Steve’s hand and mouthing, _I love you_ , as he squeezes.

“Ladies and gentleman, I’m so grateful to be able to introduce you to your newest elected representative in the United States Senate, Senator Steven Grant Rogers!” Natasha exclaims, then steps away from the podium. Bucky releases Steve’s hand, nodding, and Steve moves forward, enveloping the petite redhead in a hug before stepping up to address his supporters.

 

* * *

 

Bucky can’t help but grin as he watches Steve with his supporters. The tall, well-built blond is stunning in his navy suit, completely in his element as he works the room after his speech and converses with his constituents, all smiles.

Bucky still has moments where he can’t believe he’d caught Steve’s eye when the blond had started law school at Columbia a year after Bucky’d begun work on his Masters degree in the  university’s School of the Arts, and this is one of them. Bucky’s still at their alma mater, although these days, he’s teaching film and screenwriting courses.

The excitement in the ballroom begins to dwindle around eleven. And while Steve’s supporters are still smiling brightly as they congratulate their new Senator, Bucky sees the apprehension in their eyes as they watch the electoral map on the television screens. Ohio has been called for Donald Trump. He’s ahead in states Clinton needs, like Florida, Wisconsin and Michigan, and the Democrat’s lead in Pennsylvania is growing narrower by the minute.

Bucky’s always been pragmatic when it comes to politics, despite his liberal bent. While his partner’s technically a Democrat, Steve operates more like an Independent who tends to lean left. Bucky, however, has been a registered Democrat since he’d turned eighteen simply because in his lifetime, that was the party that fought for people like Bucky and the things he valued. And while he often disagrees with his Republican colleagues and friends, Bucky firmly believes that different viewpoints and beliefs are what make America strong.

But the tenor of this election has been different, angrier and more mean-spirited than anything Bucky’s ever seen, and there’s fear in his heart as he watches a man who’s bullied his way through the campaign with racist, xenophobic and sexist language on the threshold of taking the White House.

Sam Wilson, Steve’s Communications Director for his campaign and going forward during his term as Senator, sidles up to Bucky a little before 11:30, a worried expression on his face.

“They’re going to call Florida for Trump,” he murmurs, nodding as Bucky’s eyes widen. “Michigan and Wisconsin aren’t lookin’ good either, man. And Pennsylvania…”

“What about it?” Bucky whispers, heart in his throat as his eyes flit toward Steve. The blond’s still hobnobbing and laughing with his constituents, but Bucky can see the way his eyes stray to the televisions, the way his broad shoulders are tense with worry.

“She’s ahead now,” Sam replies, shaking his head. “But Philly’s already pretty much in and a lot of the heavy Republican districts are still counting.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky breathes, running a hand across his face. “What about Congress?”

Sam exhales through his nose, then locks eyes with Bucky. “It looks like we’re gonna be in the minority in the Senate, and we didn’t really stand a chance in the House. He’s got a rough couple years goin’ forward.”

“We all do,” Bucky croaks, gray-blue eyes flashing as Florida is called a few minutes later.

 

* * *

 

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Steve whispers as he slumps onto the couch in his and Bucky’s hotel suite. The brunet is standing - Bucky’s too antsy, too angry to sit down - by Steve’s side, their hands clasped together as Pennsylvania is called around twenty of two in the morning. “How the hell did we get here?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky murmurs, grip tightening on Steve’s hand as his thumb circles the soft skin. “I don’t know, Stevie.”

“Jesus, I knew we weren’t gonna take back the House and that the Senate was a longer shot than we’d have liked, but _Christ_ ,” Steve breathes, running a hand through his short, blond hair. Bucky’s brow furrows as he gazes down at the handsome man. Steve’s jacket and tie are gone, his shirtsleeves rolled to expose his forearms, and Bucky can see the muscles there tensing as Steve clenches his fists. “I know you’ve read their party platform; we’ve obviously all heard Trump speak about deportations and banning Muslims and violating women. And all that law and order bullshit, the stop and frisk thing...”

Steve exhales harshly, his voice wavering as he continues, “For fuck’s sake, his running mate endorses _conversion therapy_ , and we’re going to let them into the White House? To let them run our country? God what are we going to do? What am _I_ going to do?”

“You’re gonna keep fighting, Steve,” Bucky replies, voice gentle but firm, nodding as Steve looks up at him, those bright blue eyes filling up with tears. “You keep fighting because that’s what you do, Steve. You stand up to the bullies. You educate people on the issues. You provide a platform for the voices that need it the most, just like you been doin’ for the better part of ten years now.”

Steve exhales a laugh, but there’s no joy in it. “Didn’t think we’d still be fightin’ this hard over this kind of stuff, ya know? The whole basic human rights thing.”

“I know,” Bucky croons as he settles down beside Steve and reaches out to cup the blond’s face. “I know, baby. But if anybody can handle this fight, it’s you. You’re gonna be great.”

“God, I love you,” Steve breathes, leaning forward to capture Bucky’s lips with his own. The brunet sighs, opening his mouth to Steve and letting the blond guide him, shivering as Steve runs gentle fingers through his dark hair.

“You wanna get married, Steve?” Bucky asks as the blond pulls away, nearly laughing at the surprise in his partner’s eyes.

“Do I what?” Steve chokes out, a flush coloring his handsome face.

“Do you wanna get married?” Bucky repeats, grinning. “I been thinkin’ about it for a while now. We’ve been together for over ten years, hon, and we’ve talked about it enough. Let’s show ‘em all that we’re not gonna let ‘em scare us.”

“Bucky, no,” Steve’s brow is furrowed and Bucky wants to lean forward and kiss that worry away, so he does. “It should be romantic when we get married.”

“What’s more romantic than fighting for equality together?” Bucky challenges, a smirk lighting up his handsome features. “Than letting the bullies know they’re not gonna win as long as we’re here? Than showing them - pardon the cliché - that love trumps hate?"

Steve smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling up in that adorable way that Bucky loves, and the brunet knows he’s got Steve on board.

“Let me see if I have this right," Steve chuckles, carding gentle fingers through Bucky’s hair. “You want to get married as a kind of what? Political statement?”

“That’s about the size of it, I suppose,” Bucky grins, resting his forehead against Steve’s. “So, what do you think? You and me, gettin’ a marriage license tomorrow and showing some close-minded fucks a thing or two about love?”

“I think I love you more than anything in the whole world,” Steve laughs, kissing Bucky quickly. “Yes. Let’s do it.”

 

* * *

 

Steve never really imagined marrying Bucky in City Hall surrounded by his aides, constituents and a group of reporters, but the setting couldn’t matter less as Bucky gazes up at Steve while the two  of them stand hand-in-hand before a judge, his smile beatific. No, the only thing that matters in this moment is that Steve is pledging himself to the person he loves most in the world.

And when the two of them share their first kiss as husbands, Steve can’t help but tear up at the raucous cheering that envelops them. These people, Steve thinks, and people like them will be bright spots, beacons of love and hope, over the course of the next four years.

Steve turns to address the crowd gathered before them, smiling and flushed with happiness and excitement.

“First, I want to thank all of you for being here to celebrate our union,” Steve grins. “Bucky Barnes is the best partner and friend I could have ever asked for, and I’m thrilled we got to share this moment with all of you.”

Shouts and whoops echo throughout the large chamber, and Steve is blown away by the faces beaming back at him. He thinks that the memory of so much love in one room might be all he needs to fortify himself for the next four years.

“In my life and in my political career, I’ve done my best to abide by one idea,” Steve continues, grinning over at Bucky. The brunet returns the smile, squeezing Steve’s hand tightly. “Compromise where you can. Where you can't, don't. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move, it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye, and say, 'No, you move.'"

Thunderous applause greets this statement, and Steve gazes at Bucky as he speaks.

“I cannot compromise on my love for Bucky,” Steve smiles at the brunet, reaching out to wipe away a stray tear on his husband’s cheek. “Just like I cannot compromise when it comes to the civil rights of all Americans. I promise you, I will fight for all of you. I will support the American people the way all of you here are supporting me today. I will not compromise when it comes to your right to equality, your right to live and work peacefully in this country, your right to love whomever you damn well please. I’m with all of you ‘til the end of the line.”

Steve thinks the building might fall down around them as Bucky captures his lips in a kiss, the applause and the shouts are so loud. Steve breaks from the kiss, laughing as he does.

“Now, let’s go celebrate!” Steve exclaims, grabbing Bucky’s hand and leading him down the aisle, the exultant crowd following them out the door and back to their hotel to enjoy their hastily planned reception.

Bucky wraps an arm around Steve’s waist, leaning in so that only Steve can hear him. “I’ve never been more in love with you than I am right now, Rogers.”

“Feeling’s mutual, Barnes,” Steve laughs, kissing Bucky’s cheek.

Steve knows they’ve got a hard road ahead of them. The uncertainty of the next four years is a black cloud, a menacing thunderhead. How bad the storm will be is impossible to know, but that there will be a storm is unquestionable.

But Steve also knows that Bucky’s love and the love of their families and friends is the kind of sunlight that cannot be blocked out for long. In the long run, the storm clouds don’t stand a chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
